Solo Duo
by The Kettle Witch
Summary: Someone loves Kylo Ren/Ben Solo and now he knows. A short one-shot with the merest suggestion of Reylo.


Kylo Ren gazed up at the ceiling. He was laid on the narrow cot in his austere quarters aboard the Finalizer as it journeyed towards the Outer Rim of the galaxy. After a day spent submerged in a Bacta Tank, his flesh wounds were sore but mostly healed. His internal scars likely never would. Every time he closed his eyes, he could feel the tender touch of his father's hand on his cheek. His gut twisted with the forbidden agony of grief over his heinous act. It should have burned out the light inside him, so why could he still sense it, flickering in the darkest corners of his heart? His fists clenched by his sides. Anger and hatred were no use to him when he turned his negativity inward; that was why he failed. He would not fail again.

Closing his eyes with the determination to sleep, he forced his mind to quieten. At least, he tried without much success to tamp down the din inside his head. With a growl of frustration, he yanked at the thin black sheet covering his body. Wishing he was back in the Bacta Tank where his dreams were untethered from the darkness, he resolved to try again.

" _Want me to read you a bedtime story, kid?"_

Kylo sprang up from his cot, clutching his injured side. The residual damage from the bowcaster wound stung from his exertion. His eyes darted around the room. It was strange; he had sensed no disturbance in the force. But then, Han Solo was not connected to the thing he'd always dismissed as mumbo-jumbo, so there was no reason why he should have felt it. There were no ghosts hiding in the dim red light. Slumping back down, he grunted in pain.

"You look like hell, son."

Kylo jerked his head up to see the man he'd so mercilessly impaled with his lightsaber, standing before him. He didn't look like an apparition; he was as captivating a presence in death as he had been in life. Recoiling slightly as he tried to keep his fizzing emotions in check, Kylo shook his head.

"You're not really here," he stated his show of defiance undermined by the quivering of his lips.

It had to be a hallucination, or maybe he did fall asleep after all. Yes, he reasoned, it was a nightmare, nothing more. Squeezing his eyes shut, he grabbed for the bedsheet and stubbornly settled back down, desperate for sleep and comfort.

"I guess Chewie didn't take kindly to you bumping off his best friend. But if he'd shot to kill, your ashes would be orbiting around that new sun right about now, along with mine."

The figure on the narrow cot made no reply and so his uninvited guest turned to appraise the surroundings.

"You really do like black, don't cha?" Han mocked as his son pulled the bed cover over the dark robes he slept in. "I really love what you've done with the place." He rotated slowly on the spot, pausing as he saw the plinth where the battered mask found on a funeral pyre on Endor was displayed. "It's those little homely touches that make all the difference," Han quipped with a shudder.

"I just need to rest and get a good night's sleep," Kylo muttered, trying to assure himself it was his fevered imagination at work and nothing more.

"Yeah, son, you do," the older man sighed, "Bad dreams always seemed to cling to you like Mynocks on a starship. Only your mother's lullabies could soothe you."

Kylo shivered under his thin sheet as unwelcome memories invaded his mind.

"No," he whimpered, "NO, NO, NO." His anguished yell echoed around the sparsely decorated room.

The gentle melodies his mother once sang to him rang in his ears. He had convinced himself he'd forgotten the words, or buried them so deep, he could never consciously recall them. Occasionally, he would catch a line or two in his less tormented dreams. But upon waking, he would berate himself for his sentimentality.

"I bet your mother hasn't forgotten them, either," Han said, a wistful smile on his lips.

Kylo couldn't hold back the hot tears that scalded his face like acid. Rage shot through his veins; he was weak and foolish just like his father.

"I killed you," he spat, glaring at the manifestation, "so why won't you die?"

"Would you like to try again?" Han inquired, opening up his jacket and offering up his chest.

Averting his eyes in shame, Kylo felt, for a second, as if he was force choking his own windpipe. Gulping for air, the full weight of what he'd done came crashing down on him. His mouth gaped open as a scream died in his throat and he buried his face in his hands.

"I can't take it back," he gasped, "I told you and you didn't listen; it's too late."

"Ben," Han rested a hand on his shoulder, "Do you think I'd still be here if it was?"

Silent sobs wracked his body. He could not afford to crumble. Not now, not ever. The Supreme Leader could not abide weakness. He would know; he always knew. More lessons would be given in restricting his emotions. Stopping himself from feeling was impossible. The harder he tried, the worse it got.

"Where were you when I needed you?" Kylo snarled, his barely contained anger flaring. "You're twenty years too late. You wanted me gone, that's why you didn't stop mother from sending me away. I heard what was in your mind, you thought I was too much like grandfather and it disgusted you." His voice was almost a whisper. "I disgusted you."

"Ben, no," Han protested, "The things you can do - - it worried me, I won't deny that. Besides, given our recent history, I'd say my concern was somewhat justified, wouldn't you?"

"The Supreme Leader knew I was in the wrong place; he showed me the way," Kylo said with the conviction of one who clung to his beliefs like a man falling from a city in the clouds would cling to the last antenna.

"Then why do you look so lost, son?"

Han took a seat at the foot of the bed and heaved a weary sigh. Ben was right; he always thought his boy had too much Vader in him. But the truth of the matter was that he was more like his father than either of them was able to reconcile with their perception of each other.

"You know what the real trouble is? Us Solos are no good at admitting when we're wrong. I'd rather be digested by a Sarlacc than lose an argument."

Kylo thought about all the times he witnessed his parents fighting. His mother was just as stubborn as his father, but their love for each other usually won the day. Unconsciously, his lips had curled up slightly as he lost himself in reminiscence.

Han joined him, fondly remembering the too short time they spent as a happy family.

"You see, son, it ain't over yet. It's not the falling or the failing that defines us. It's the journey on the hard path that takes us where we least want to go but where we most need to be."

"Thanks for the wisdom, Master Yoda," Ben quipped, for he truly was his old sarcastic self again in that moment.

Han held onto the glimmer of hope.

"You can no more kill Ben Solo than you can kill me. I'll always be with you."

His father's words jolted him out of his slip into his alter ego and his expression hardened.

"There's no way back; I made my choice. General Organa and Luke Skywalker are wedded to the old ways that bring only conflict and corruption. The Supreme Leader's wisdom will bring peace to the galaxy," Kylo stated with as much conviction as he could muster.

With a pained grimace, Han shook his head.

"What's the plan then, huh? Keep killing and blasting star systems to rocks and dust until there's peace? Are you gonna kill your mother and your uncle, too, if Snoke gives the command? Haven't you realised it yet, son, you can't kill us, you can't kill what we are. We're a part of you and we always will be."

Kylo balled his large hands into fists, he was still being torn apart, worse now than ever.

"Why did you have to step out onto that bridge?" The anguish in his voice overtook the anger. "All you had to do was leave," he couldn't resist a bitter retort, "You're usually so good at that."

Han recoiled slightly but soon recovered.

"I guess things played out the way they had to, kid," he gave a nonchalant shrug. "Like that little souvenir Rey left you with." His finger traced the diagonal path of the thin pink scar that divided his son's face.

Kylo visibly flinched, shame and something else rippled through him.

His father knew what it was.

"So you liked her, huh?" he teased, "Rey is quite something, I'll give you that. She's a sucker for the old Solo charm, too. But I don't need the force to tell me that she wasn't too happy about watching you off your old man. "

His son couldn't meet his gaze.

"The deed is done," Kylo murmured, "It's unforgivable."

Han gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"You have my forgiveness, Ben; the rest is up to you."

Kylo folded in on himself, hugging his knees and disregarding the discomfort in his side. His eyes were closed tight in a vain attempt to hold back his tears. When his silent weeping subsided, he turned back to his room to find it empty. Han was gone. All that his senses could detect was the dim red lighting and the faint hum of the Finalizer's engines. Kylo cursed his foolishness and felt a pang of concern for his already fragile sanity. Of course, his father wasn't there, he had never been there he resentfully reminded himself. And yet, Han's words resounded clearly in his mind. Lor San Tekka, another old man he'd so mercilessly cut down, was right; he could not deny the truth that was his family. Could he ever be Ben Solo again? It seemed unimaginable after everything he'd seen and everything he'd done. He could not hide his feelings from Snoke, he had to purge them. Everything depended upon it. Another test would come and he could not fail. And yet, what price for success? If, no, when he came face to face with Rey again… Maybe it was up to him.

" _She doesn't belong in the darkness. That's why the likes of the Emperor and Snoke are doomed to fail. Nothing can thrive for long without the light."_

Han was still with him, he always had been.

Rey didn't belong in the dark and he didn't belong in the light. Perhaps they could meet each other halfway?

"Thank you, father," Ben whispered from the shadows.

 **THE END.**

* * *

 **Dammit, Han Solo was my favourite character from the original trilogy, and now I love his son!**

 **I know it's a big ask after patricide, but I really want to see Kylo Ren/Ben Solo redeemed (and not die!)**

 **Whatever happens, the Solo family will always be close to my heart.**

 **Thank you for taking the time to read this short one-shot and please do leave a review. - Mrs P.**


End file.
